


Spearmint Chewing Gum

by SillyLioness



Category: The Pacific (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-09
Updated: 2015-11-09
Packaged: 2018-04-30 19:39:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5177243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SillyLioness/pseuds/SillyLioness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lieutenant Stone is Corrigan's only constant in the insane mess that is the Pacific War.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spearmint Chewing Gum

**Author's Note:**

> So, since there wasn't a first name for Lt. Stone, I decided to name him William/Bill. I might add that English isn't my first language, so I hope you can forgive me my mistakes. Also no disrespect to the real men of The Pacific, this was solely inspired by the series and it's not meant to be real life. Enjoy!

     _Melbourne_

_January, 1943_

 

     Hugh was exhausted. He hadn't slept – really slept – a single night on that goddamn ship and his head was still throbbing from the annoying cheers of the crowd that had awaited them at the port.

     As if they knew anything about what was going on.

     It made him angry and the boiling fury inside of him didn't exactly help his headache. Despite all the nerve-wracking busyness and noise, Hugh was glad he had been promoted to company CO because this granted him the luxury of a more secluded sleeping area. He still had to share it, but it was more private than sleeping out there on the ranks of the stadium. And as much as he felt connected to his men, after the months spent on Guadalcanal, living cramped together in foxholes, even he needed some privacy or at least the illusion of it.

     Hugh was pleasantly surprised to find that Second Lieutenant Stone would be his company for the following days, at least when it came to their sleeping situation. Hugh already had decided that he would try to avoid company as much as possible. Aside from this his plans were simple: smoking, and drinking enough to be drunk but still conscious enough to avoid being embarrassing. And maybe he could even get some work done – still had to work on a number of reports. The thought alone made his head hurt again.

     A weary sigh escaped his chapped and dry lips when he sat down on the cot. Until now he hadn't even noticed the pain that accompanied every single one of his movements. With his eyes already closed Hugh kicked of his shoes and laid down. Lazily he pulled up the blanket to his shoulders and only moments after he was sound asleep. It had to be the exhaustion that kept him asleep, because on the ship images of Guadalcanal haunted him night by night, making sleep impossible. Perhaps it was also the feeling of security instead of constant alertness that made it easier to sleep.

     The groan of a man and the squeaking of the other cot woke Hugh. Apparently Stone had finally got time to rest. Hugh almost felt sorry for him, because he had more or less left the company to him without another word. Then again, Hugh was still too tired to actually care. He fell asleep again without even a single word to Stone and every second of it he reveled in the steadiness of the ground.

     When he woke up again and finally gathered the motivation to sit up, Hugh found Stone sitting on the edge of his cot, hunched over a letter he apparently had already read and was now staring at. Judging by his expression, Stone wasn't exactly delighted at the moment so Hugh decided to keep quiet.

     Instead of poking around in other people's private matters he got up and left to take a leak. This little adventure quickly became a tour around their 'camp' to look after the men. Everything was like Hugh had expected it to be. Dirty, weary men – but happy to be off that godforsaken island. In the relative silence of the stadium the events of Guadalcanal came crashing down on Hugh. It was thoroughly fucked up. The Japs were absolutely batshit crazy and the way they had acted on Guadalcanal made Hugh feel sick. He felt the strong urge to seek some kind of solace and since it was still too early for drinking – he didn't feel like it anyway, everything hurt – he settled for a prayer. Hail Mary seemed to be a fine choice, because he sure felt like a sinner right now. So as he went on to walk around camp and get a look at his company he mumbled "Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death" what felt like a hundred times.

     By the time he reached his cot again his mouth was dry and his head almost empty. A small achievement. Stone was sprawled out on his cot again and appeared to be asleep. At least until he turned his head and stared at Hugh. He simply ignored the lack of a proper greeting. If he had been in Stone's places, he wouldn't want to get out of bed either.

     "Good day, Stone. Got some shut-eye?"

     "Yes sir. Slept like a baby." Stone gave him a half-smile and ducked his head slightly. Hugh was sure this wasn't the truth but this wasn't his business – not now – so he ignored Stone's behavior.

     "That's good news then," he said, voice low, as he settled on his cot again and stretched out his legs.

     "I suppose so. How's everyone holding up?" Stone had turned his head again, this time to face Hugh, genuine concern in his eyes. It gave Hugh some kind of security to know that his fellow officers cared about the men as well.

     "As good as can be," he hummed and looked over to Stone.

     "That's good news then as well."

     "Sure is."

 

 

     Hugh had decided that Melbourne was probably the best city in the whole world, when he'd first walked into the stuffy bar. Being AWOL as company CO maybe wasn't the smartest decision he'd ever made but it sure was worth it. The bar kept the sweet promise of alcoholic beverages that had lured him away from the stadium in the first place and that made Hugh a whole lot happier than before, even if only for the night.

     Being absolutely shitfaced didn't help Hugh's dancing skills but it also made him care less, so it canceled out, and apparently the girl in his arms was either too plastered to notice or simply didn't care. It was well after midnight when he left the bar with his girl for the night or what was left of it. Despite his condition he still found his way back to the stadium before dawn afterwards. Hugh dropped dead on his cot and already felt the hangover setting in. But this didn't keep him from getting his sleep.

     His head was about to burst when trumpeter started playing. With his sense of balance still not back on track he also almost fell from his cot. Sometimes he hated the Marines. It cost him all of the motivation he could gather to sit up and when a silent burp escaped his mouth, even his own nose wrinkled. The combo of morning breath, unbrushed teeth and alcohol was not the most pleasant thing he had ever smelled. Hugh let out a heavy sigh and rubbed his head, keeping his eyes shut, knowing that it would be too bright. After opening his eyes, he was met with a compassionate smile from Stone.

     “Want one?” Stone held out his hand and offered Hugh a chewing gum. Which meant he had either noticed Hugh's own disgust or smelled it. Hugh hoped for the former because now that his head was getting clearer he was able to feel embarrassment again and that would be quite embarrassing.

     “Yeah, thanks,” he breathed and took a chewing gum out of the package. Hugh placed it between his molars and bit down on it. It wouldn't make him smell worse for sure. Stone nodded, smiled and pulled his arm back, stowing the chewing gum in his pocket. Even though Hugh didn't smell as bad from his mouth as before he still felt like shit and so did his Marines. They all looked like they were about to throw up. Pale and hungover. When that poor guy fell face-first to the ground and didn't even bother to try and protect himself with his arms, Hugh decided that this was it.

     “Company dismiss.” The sun was burning in his eyes and he longed to get into the shadow of the stadium again. The men had similar feelings, judging from their expressions as they left to return to their cots. In spite of his hangover or maybe because of it Hugh decided to get himself nice and clean.

 

 

     “Look a whole lot better now, sir,” commented Stone when Hugh got back. Stone's expression showed clearly that he regretted saying it the moment it was past his lips. It was the truth though. He also felt a bit better in his fresh clothes and without all the dirt. Being clean-shaven again was also a nice.

     “Thanks Lieutenant.” Hugh nodded and smiled a little. He felt like he could be a nice person today, especially because it was painfully obvious that Stone had a nice hangover as well.

     “Can call me Bill if you wanna,” Stone offers and looks at him. Being called Lieutenant made him feel uneasy and awkward.

     “Alright,” Hugh lingered a second, “Bill. That's fine with me.” For a moment Hugh thought about telling Stone – Bill – it was fine to call him 'Ivy-League', since he'd heard it in the men's conversations quite a few times, but he wasn't good with jokes so he didn't even try to be funny and kept his mouth shut. He wasn't good with conversation either, Hugh thought when he settled at his desk and prepared his typewriter. Reports weren't going to finish themselves. He coughed awkwardly, a dry sound escaping his throat, sounding like something had just died in there.

     “So, Bill, anyone waiting for you at home?” Why did he even ask questions like this? Talking about such stuff wasn't going to make it more bearable being stuck in the suck (although Melbourne wasn't bad, Hugh was referring more to shit like Guadalcanal) miles and miles away from home. Even he had to admit, no matter how just this war was, how important victory and serving one's country was, it sucked and he missed the States. Despite his motivation to fight the hardest he could and lead his men to the best of his abilities, he longed for more peaceful times and hoped that the way there wasn't such a long one. 

     “Well, I'm quite sure my mom is waiting for me,” Bill said, stroking his chin and looking slightly distant. Hugh snorted staring down at his typewriter, careful to not make any typos. He wouldn't be able to bear typing all this again. A quiet chuckle escaped from Bill's lips, even though it made him feel a bit uneasy and insecure talking to his CO like this.

     “I guess mine is waiting for me as well.” Hugh desperately hoped it wouldn't seem like he was forcing this conversation to go on.

     “So no girl or wife at home then, sir? I thought they dig officers.”

     “No, no girl.” Now it was Hugh's turn to feel uneasy and insecure, he didn't like talking about such matters. “But since you're a Lieutenant now, too, you might as well try your luck when we get back to the States.” Bill laughed. It was quiet, but genuine.

     “I might as well.” With a relaxed sigh Bill stretched out on his cot again, folding his arms behind his head and resting it on them. Hugh glanced over to him, noticing the ribs that showed even trough the fabric of his worn down shirt. What almost troubled Hugh more than the constitution the Marines were in was the fact that he couldn't help but notice the lean yet athletic body Bill had, which gave him an overall very attractive look. He let out a soft sigh and rubbed his hand over his forehead. He shouldn't be thinking such dangerous stuff. It was stupid anyway. He couldn't exactly hook up with his XO. Despite enjoying what he felt when he was with other men (not that he had much experience he could draw from), having thoughts like this made his head hurt. He wasn't supposed to feel that way, was he? Then again it was nice and good and made him feel content. But in the end Hugh just couldn't hate himself for his attraction towards men. He didn't choose to be this way, but he couldn't change it either – so he best just got over it. Just getting over things seemed to be a fine tactic in life. He had learned that in the past months. After letting out a breath he had been holding, Hugh started working on that report again.

 

_February, 1943_

 

     It was probably the worst birthday he'd ever had. He was alone and annoyed and the war still wasn't over. Not that Hugh had expected this, it just would have been nice to get good news for once. At least this gave him an excuse to go drinking. Hugh was sure that in the time he had spent in Melbourne by now he had been drunk more often than ever before in his life. It was kind of a good feeling though – not thinking about things so much. Thinking was what kept him awake at night and in the constantly sleep-deprived state he was in because of this, he was not a very nice person to say the least. Poor Bill likely got the most shit from Hugh. Bill just really didn't deserve it. Hugh felt like apologizing but that would be far too embarrassing. Mostly because Hugh was not very good with words regarding such matters.

     He was glad that he had been able to gather the discipline to leave the bar before he was actually drunk. He still felt a little fuddled but it was almost nothing. What also changed the evening for the better was that he didn't meet anyone on his way back and was able to walk to his cot in silence. But this didn't last long. Hugh could feel how the fresh air cleared his head and his brain began thinking about all kinds of shit again. Guadalcanal, home, the war in general, keeping his company's shit together and worst of all, Bill Stone. Even though he was tired and felt his eye lids close every other second, he just didn't fall asleep. The relative silence around him only made the thunder in his head sound louder. Eventually he must have fallen asleep. At least he couldn't remember being up all night, when he saw the sun creeping over the edge of the stadium.

     “Good morning, sir,” Bill said, when he noticed that his CO had woken up. Hugh stifled a yawn and nodded. “Also, belated happy birthday.” He gave Hugh a crooked, yet joyful grin. It took Hugh by surprise, but he couldn't be angry or anything. It was not that hard to find out someone's birthday, so it didn't necessarily mean that Bill had been prying in his personal stuff. Also Bill just wouldn't do that, Hugh was sure.

     “Well, thanks Bill. I appreciate it.” He really did. Hugh was glad he had someone he could talk to on a more informal and amicable level.

     “Seems like I haven't got any presents yet”, Hugh said. His smile was lopsided and must have looked quite insecure. The shade of red he felt burning on his cheeks probably didn't make him look more confident. It appeared to Hugh that since the war began concern suited him better than smiles and the like. Bill huffed out a laugh and looked at him, with his elbows propped on his thighs and his hands folded in between them.

     “That sure must suck, sir. Looks like there is no cake either.” Hugh snorted and nodded. Cake would be nice. Not because it was his birthday, but because he hasn't eaten his mother's cake in months. In his mind he added that it was very good cake, so it was reasonable to miss it. He missed a lot of things, but with Bill as his company it was alright at least for most of the time.

 

* * *

 

 

_Pacific Ocean,_

_December, 1943_

 

     Hugh sure had seen better Christmases, but in the situation at hand it was a damn fine Christmas. There would be good chow for once and singing carols was more fun than he'd thought it would be. It helped him forget the shit they were about to get into. The whole day he had been sitting next to Bill, sharing silent laughs and sarcastic remarks about everything and everyone. Quite a few times during dinner Bill gently nudged his shoulder to tell him something, usually a joke or a funny anecdote. Hugh felt at ease, almost perfectly happy. He only laughed and nodded, sometimes said a few words. In addition to his missing talent for telling jokes he also wasn't very good with stories, so he let Bill do the talking.

 

     It had to be around midnight when Bill joined Hugh on the deck. Hugh was leaning against the railing. A cigarette in his hands while he stared down into the ocean. He hadn't noticed Bill until he stood right next to him.

     “Mind if I join you, sir?” he asked as he looked at Hugh, searching for signs of discomfort.

     “No. Want one?” Hugh offered him the crumpled package of cigarettes.

     “Thanks, sir.” Bill smiled a little and took the package. After he had placed the cigarette between his lips, Hugh leaned a little closer to him and lit it. The metallic click of the zippo shutting woke Bill from his trance-like state and stopped him from staring at Hugh any longer. Embarrassed he turned his face away and like Hugh before looked out on the ocean. It wasn't the first time he had noticed that Hugh was good-looking. The blue eyes always showing a little concern – especially when Hugh was lost in his thoughts – the shadows over his cheekbones, the fine wrinkles around his eyes and the corners of his mouth, the light five o'clock shadow – in Bill's eyes his CO was a strikingly handsome man. What worried him more than Hugh's attractiveness was his steadily growing need and will to make him laugh and drive away his concern and worry. Solely sexual attraction towards his CO would have been awkward but sufferable, but this kind of emotional bond was something Bill couldn't and didn't want to deal with.

     “Say,” Hugh raised his voice, “are you afraid of what's going to happen there?” Bill wasn't sure if it was just a general question and Hugh wanted to make sure that everyone in the company was ready for what was coming or if it was something personal, only meant for Bill.

     “No and yes.” Probably the vaguest answer he could possibly give. “I mean, it's what I signed up for, to help win the war. Then again, things aren't exactly pretty and I don't want to push my luck.” Bill let out a low breath through his mouth. “But in the end I have no choice anyway, so I can also spend my time with something other than worrying.” Hugh nodded, seeming like he knew what Bill wanted to tell him.

     “I see. You're right. It's not our place to make decisions as to where we are going next, so we have to take what we get.” Bill was sure that the use of 'we' and 'our' was meant to include all Marines serving, the lower-ranked officers or just their company, but not just the two of them. Yet he couldn't help but flush a little. But that was probably also because he had lied to his CO, a bit at least, he was afraid, goddamn afraid. 

 

* * *

 

 

_Cape Gloucester, New Britain,_

_December, 1943_

 

     By God, Hugh hated rain. Especially this extraordinary Pacific suck-ass kind of rain. About everything was wet. The ground, his clothes, even his food (that already sucked without being wet because of jungle rain). Only moments later he cursed himself for damning the rain, because a Japanese attack was even worse than that. The night went by in a blur of gunfire, shouts, rain and blood. Hugh is not exactly sure how he survived once again, but he didn't even have a scratch. A few bruises are the worst he got from this attack.

     When the light showed the true dimension of the destruction of last night, Hugh felt sick. The stench of beginning decay, supported by the warm, humid weather and the masses of pestering flies only added to this unique picture of what hell had to look like. He wandered around aimlessly, taking in the sight of corpses everywhere around him. He should get the reports ready, he told himself. He should feel guilty, because killing wasn't right and God forbade it. He should feel happy, because he'd survived this night and their enemy had been fought back, for now. But Hugh felt indifferent, wondering whether indifference was the same as happiness or as guilt.

     Strangely numb Hugh returned to camp and began to work on his reports and write letters home to families whose sons weren't as fortunate as he was. By the time it was afternoon he stopped writing, he just couldn't look at that typewriter anymore without feeling like he was about to throw up. Sadly, he had smoked all of his cigarettes by now, so he couldn't even try to relax with a good smoke. With a deep sigh and the cracking of his joints Hugh got up and walked out of his tent. Maybe it was only in his mind, but he felt like the smell had gotten worse since he started on the paperwork. He really missed his cigarettes. 

     Like an angel sent by heaven Bill appeared by his side, offering him a pack of Luckies. Bill noticed Hugh's exhausted sigh and faint smile, as he took one of the smokes and brought it up to his lips. Bill moved in front of Hugh to light his cigarette. His concentrated gaze fixed on the cigarette, careful to not hurt Hugh with the flame.

     “Thanks, Lieutenant,” Hugh said. He felt the urge to call Bill by his name, not his rank, but suppressed it. They were in public after all and he wasn't sure whether Bill would approve this or not.

     “You're welcome, sir.” Bill nodded and smiled, as he put away his lighter. “May I speak freely?” he asked, sounding warily.

     “You may.” Hugh looked at him from the corner of his eye. Anxious to hear what Bill had to say. It sounded like something serious and Hugh had had enough bad news and the like today. Bill cleared his throat awkwardly and turned his eyes to the ground for a moment.

     “Frankly, sir, you look like you could use a break and some food. Care to get some chow with me?” Hugh was pleasantly surprised. He knew he looked like shit, so that wasn't new to him. No bad news then.

     “Sounds good,” Hugh agreed and smiled, following Bill to get some food.

     With two field rations they returned to Hugh's tent, because they both felt it would be nicer to eat inside.

     “Make yourself at home,” Hugh said mockingly, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth as he entered the tent behind Bill. He earned a little laugh and a grin, that made his cheeks burn. They both settled in a more or less comfortable position and started eating in silence.

     “Sir,” Bill hesitated, biting on his lip – which made him look ridiculously hot – and fidgeting with his spoon, “the other night in Melbourne I saw two men, Marines I believe, couldn't really see it, but it was at the stadium, well, making out. Since I couldn't see their faces anyway and, to be honest, I wanted to go to bed, I didn't inform you. I thought about it today and I want to know what's your general policy is...for such matters.” It made Hugh a bit jumpy. He didn't like talking about anything even remotely close to engaging in homosexual actions. But the fact that Bill was only nervous and not necessarily disgusted, made him feel a little calmer. Calm enough to get an answer together.

     “You should warn them. To not do it again I mean, because the next person who sees this might not be so friendly about it. To be honest, we can't lose well-trained Marines over something as...silly as this. So just try to get them to be a little more subtle about it. I mean, I see why one would do this, if they're attracted to men and surrounded by them all day...it's just, I don't want any dishonorable discharges because if this in my company and if the wrong eyes see such things that might happen.” Hugh let out a weary breath. He talked too much, far too much. Bill just nodded and proceeded with eating. He seemed a little more relaxed though. If that was, because he was glad he hadn't done anything wrong in the eyes of his CO or because he was a homosexual himself, Hugh didn't know. When his brain came up with that second possibility, Hugh wanted to tell his head to go fuck itself, because he didn't need that kind of wasted hope. The rest of their meal went on in comfortable silence.

 

* * *

 

 

_Pavuvu,_

_June, 1944_

 

     Hugh aimlessly wandered through the camp on Pavuvu, in his head nicknamed piece-of-shit-crab-island, when he decided that he would join movie night. It would be one of these sappy romance flicks for sure, but he didn't mind. He walked over to the last row of the make-shift movie theater and found himself next to Bill, so close that their upper arms were pressed against each other. In his defense, if Hugh would move an inch to the left, he'd fall of the bench.

     “I hope you don't mind,” he mumbled, head ducked a little and hands folded in his lap.

     “Sure I don't,” Bill whispered grinning slightly, before he turned his face to the screen again. “Glad you came, sir, I think no one else is going to appreciate my witty comments.” Hugh huffed out a quiet laugh and looked at Bill. They fell into silence again and over time Hugh leaned closer to Bill, hoping it was not noticeable and if it was, that Bill would put it off as an attempt to get a better view on the screen. Hugh sighed quietly and closed his eyes, just for a moment. He felt warm – the good kind, not the kind of warmth that made you sweat all over – and safe next to Bill.

     Apparently too warm and safe Hugh had to admit, when Bill woke him up, gently rocking his shoulder. He yawned, covering his mouth sleepily and looked up to Bill.

     “ 'm sorry, didn't mean to...” he attempted to explain himself. Bill just smiled softly and shook his head. He stood up, careful to keep Hugh from dropping to the side, and offered him his hand. Hugh smiled tiredly, yet gratefully and pulled himself up with Bill's help.

     “You must be pretty tired, sir. Let's get you to bed then.” He hoped he didn't invade any personal space with this, but Hugh just nodded and let go off his hand, before he followed Bill to his place.

     “You don't have to...” Hugh started, but stopped. He didn't want to scare Bill away, he was happy that they had this rare private moment. He yawned again and stroked through his messy hair.

     “You're not getting a malaria, sir, are you?” Bill sounded concerned and looked at him the same way. Hugh chuckled a little.

     “No, no need to worry, I just didn't sleep much last night and that's getting me now I think.”

     “That's good, sir. It sucks. Runner, Conley, has had one, you know, he really suffered.”

     “I know. Could you – could you stop calling me 'sir' when we're alone? Well, only if you don't mind of course.”

     “Course not. Is fine with me.” Bill smiled and held the door to Hugh's place open.

     “Care to share a drink with me?” Hugh asked him, after entering his room. He still had some of that Johnnie Walker he had _acquired_ from the Army.

     “I thought you are tired?” A grin tugged at Bill's mouth.

     “Well, I am, but I know I won't fall asleep again in the next two hours, so I might as well do something, even if it's drinking.

     “Alright, alright.” Bill held up his hands in mock-surrender and followed Hugh inside. “Is it good stuff at least?”

     “It is.” Hugh grinned and started looking for two clean glasses. After finding what he had searched for, he placed the glasses on the table and opened the bottle of whiskey, filling both glasses generously. Hugh closed the bottle and set it down, before handing Bill a glass and taking his own.

     “Well, cheers then.” Hugh raised his glass and looked at Bill, who was mirroring his motion.

     “Cheers, to good health and that the war will be over soon.”

     “Yes, let's hope for that.” Hugh hoped he didn't sound bitter. Both he and Bill knew that there was still a long way to go. But hope wasn't wrong, was it?

     They spent the night talking and drinking, so when Hugh went to bed dawn was just around the corner. He regretted it a little, knowing he could have used the sleep. But if that meant missing out on Bill's company he'd rather miss out on the sleep. It was good, almost liberating, to talk freely, not restricted by ranks or the eyes of superior officers. They had been sitting face-to-face at the table and with every glass they had poured for the other their hands had lingered longer, as if they craved this gentle touch. Hugh let out a bemused sigh, he hadn't known this side of himself. Maybe it was the insanity and violence of war that made him yearn tenderness. The few hours of sleep he had got, had been filled with images of Bill. Incoherent snippets of home, sleeping next to Bill, holding hands in the darkness, gently kissing Bill's cheek in the warm sun light of fall. It wasn't new to him and still he felt fear crushing his chest when he woke up. He'd had dreams like this before, but every new one was a reminder that his heart wouldn't let him play down this one. This one. Bill. Hugh felt ill. There were too many thoughts in his head. What if Bill found out? What if Bill died? What if this crush developed into real love? Annoyed Hugh shook his head, this wasn't a crush anymore. He surely was past this point.

     Despite knowing better than to feed his longing for Bill, Hugh walked over to his table and sat down, placing his breakfast in front of him.

     “Doing alright?” Bill asked and looked up from his own plate.

     “Yeah, just a little headache, but I'm not even sure whether that's from the booze or just from how shitty this piece of crap island is.” Hugh didn't mean to sound that angry, but thanks to the sun that was burning down from the sky already the smell of rotten coconuts had only gotten worse since yesterday evening – at least he thought so. Also some kind of bird had shat on his sleeve (maybe he should be grateful that said bird had had the decency to not shit on his head), which meant he had to go back and change his clothes. But he wouldn't tell Bill that. He didn't need to embarrass himself further. “How about you?” he asked instead, scanning Bill's face for signs of a hangover.

     “I'm doing fine, sir. Thanks for asking.” Hugh smiled a little and nodded, before he continued eating his breakfast. Thanks to the small tables and because Bill was such a tall bastard, their knees bumped against each other for pretty much all of the breakfast. It was a tiny bit awkward, but Hugh couldn't say he didn't enjoy it.

 

* * *

 

 

_Peleliu,_

_September, 1944_

 

     Hugh had never felt this exhausted in his life, ever. He felt like dying of thirst, suffocating and melting all at the same time. Except for that he only felt numb and dead. Partly because his muscles didn't even bother to hurt anymore, partly because his brain just pretty much shut off, which was probably better than thinking about what had happened today. At least he had been able to get his hands on two canteens of water.

     “Hey, Lieutenant, want to drink something?” he called, when he saw Bill. Bill looked just about as tired as he felt.

     “Yeah, thanks, sir,” he answered feebly, taking the canteen that was offered to him.

     “Do you have a moment?” The soft touch of Bill's fingertips felt good, in spite of the heat and dirt.

     “Yes, sir.”

     “Well, then sit down and drink something before you faint.” Obviously glad that Hugh hadn't given him a task to fulfill, Bill sat down, suppressing a groan of pain. Hugh sat down next to him, hesitating for a moment, before laying his hand on Bill's back. When Bill didn't shy away, Hugh began to rub circles over the small hills of Bill's vertebrae.

     “You shouldn't be doing this,” Bill breathed, but closed his eyes nonetheless to concentrate more on this sweet sensation.

     “It's alright, just...just relax a little.” Not long after Hugh had said that, Bill leaned closer towards him until their shoulders were pressed together. It had to look kind of odd, given the fact that Bill was about four, almost five inches taller than him, but Hugh couldn't bring himself to care about that right now. Hugh felt his face heat up, when Bill placed his hand in Hugh's, squeezing it gently as if to reassure him that they were here together.

     “It's good to know that you've made it, you know,” Hugh whispered, returning the squeeze and leaning his head against Bill's. It felt just like in one of his dreams, a little more filthy, but that was okay.

     “Sir, I wondered,” Bill had to gather up all his courage ans strength to go on, “are you in love with me?” It sounded even worse than he had imagined. But there wasn't really another way to put it. Bill could only hope that he had read the signs in the right way. It was undeniable that his CO had a crush on him, but love was something completely different. He hoped and prayed that Hugh was, in fact, in love with him. Not only because he would return these feelings but because he otherwise would have made himself seem very, very homosexual and he would have offended his senior officer pretty badly.

     “Why are you asking?” Hugh sounded suspicious, careful not to reveal to much.

     “Just, well, the way you're behaving...I thought...” Bill interrupted himself. Like Hugh, he tried to only say as much as he needed to. Hugh felt trapped and insecure. He didn't like having to rely on his instincts – not in such emotional matters.

     “I think you're right. I fell in love with you...I hope that doesn't change the way, you think of me. If you want to be transferred I think that can be arranged and also I'd be very glad, if you could maybe...well, keep quiet,” he rambled, looking away from Bill.

     “Oh. That's not what I had in mind, to be honest. I think – I think I feel the same for you.” Bill smiled awkwardly at Hugh's stunned expression.

     “I didn't know...well, I also didn't believe you would...,” Hugh stopped himself and sighed quietly, “I'm glad. That you feel like this.”

 

* * *

 

 

_Okinawa,_

_August, 1945_

 

     It was a weird kind of happiness Hugh felt. The kind where you didn't even really express it because it was so unexpected and stunning that you just stood there and did nothing.

     The war was over. Japan surrendered.

     He let out a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding in and stroked through his hair. He grabbed a bottle of booze on his way out, mind set on finding Bill. It didn't take him long to find Bill talking to his men, laughing and radiating joy.

     “Can you spare me a moment, Lieutenant?” he asked, nodding at the Marines that were gathered around Bill, chatting and cheering.

     “Of course, sir.” Bill grinned at the Marines a last time before turning to follow Hugh. He looked more serious, almost worried. “Is there anything you need to talk about with me?” Hugh noticed the same worry in his voice.

     “No, yeah, well...I thought you'd enjoy a drink.” He laughed silently, embarrassed by how hard it was to say something so normal.

     “Oh,” Bill looked relieved and chuckled, “Yeah, I'd like a drink. Don't scare me like this. You always look like your granny's died when you look at me with that serious face.” Hugh couldn't help but grin as well, before handing Bill the opened bottle.

     “To peace.”

     “To peace,” Bill repeated his words and took a long swig. For a few minutes they walked around, searching for a more secluded area. After finally finding one, Bill carefully set the bottle on the ground and laid his hand on Hugh's cheeks.

     “I'm so fucking happy that we made it through this shit,” he whispered and pulled Hugh closer to him, taking advantage of his height and strength. Hugh merely chuckled and rested his head against Bill's shoulder. His hands found Bill's waist and he moved even closer to Bill. After all they'd been through he felt like he had earned every right to be happy and he knew he would be happy, just like in his dreams.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed reading this. At least there is one fic now, featuring Corrigan as the main character.


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